


I shall wear no crowns and win no glory

by kcsantos



Series: Ice and Blood [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, babysitter Ghost, misadventures in the Riverlands, somewhat more angst and slow burn than intended
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-11-26 02:43:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcsantos/pseuds/kcsantos
Summary: Who could have thought that you would care for me that much?He started to drop his hand but she held it with her own, not ready to let go of him yet. She kept their hands on her lips, breathed deep in and out, in and out, trying to slow down the fast beating of her heart. Then she lowered her forehead and rested it on their joined hands.Jon did not said a word, only kept his hand with hers.





	I shall wear no crowns and win no glory

**DAENERYS**

Looking back, that was not what was supposed to happen. And then, as fast as only losing control could be, it all happened at once.

The last thing she saw before falling was a white blur in the corner of her eyes. The last thing she heard was the cry of one of the dragons calling for her, high-pitched and scared. When her body hit the cold water, there was nothing but pain, the struggle with the lack of oxygen and the sinking fear that wanted to pull her to the bottomless darkness around them.

Fear was a weight, an anchor.

The water was dark and endless. And how amazing it was that such cold could burn.

There was not enough air inside her lungs, she desperately wanted to reach the surface but somehow despite swimming up, she was going down. _Drowning is such an awful way to die_, was the thought that crossed her mind before something, some_one_, dragged her up. When she emerged, it was under the overturned little fishing boat and so she could not see a thing, it was blackness and muffled sounds. Dany wanted to call for Jon, but her body could only catch up to breathing. A dragons’ screeching pierced through her ears. She swam to the other side of the boat and chaos welcomed her in the surface. Two dragons were flying above them. They were_ flying_, looking for her. Crying for her. The white and the red, that seemed black against the night sky. Their little golden sister standing on the boat, crystal eyes looking for her mother. Jon and Ghost were still in the water, the boy looking for the oars in the darkness. The arrows had stopped coming but the men were still on the beach, shouting at each other, shouting at the burglars and _the dragons were flying above them_. The men on the beach, the poor fishermen that would tell to their neighbors about the dragons they saw protecting a girl and a boy no one knew, a girl and a boy who took away one of their small fishing boats, a girl and a boy with black clothes and a white wolf. When Jon managed to upturn the boat, the small dragon fell in the water and Dany screamed swimming as fast as she could, but Ghost got to it first, picking the dragon between his teeth and spitting it inside the boat, almost overturning it again when he jumped inside. Arms pulled Dany up and she fell against the wood, coughing saltwater and trying to breathe.

Maybe, possibly, no one would believe those men when they went around telling what had happened that night, what they had seen with their own eyes. A tale worth of a song… A song that hopefully no one would listen to.

She closed her eyes for a minute to try to understand how they were still alive, and she felt the boat moving. Jon was rowing, despite the arrow still on his left shoulder, and finally they were back on their way to Skagos. Dany opened her eyes and looked at the sky.

“Are you alright?” she asked Jon.

He did not answer her. Dany let him be and looked at the stars… _How did we get here?_

Dawn was breaking and high up in the sky the red comet still shined as bright as fire and red as blood. During the night, it outshined the moon. To the common folk of the North, it had many different meanings, but to Dany, it meant only one thing that she did not dare say aloud yet. She knew it though, knew it in her heart to be true. Hidden treasures and possibilities, prophecies and dreams… _I feel their hot breath. I see wings flying above the snow_… She had dreamt it, and so had the Targaryens before her.

Dany sat up and looked around their little camp. One girl, one boy, one direwolf and three dragons. Two deserters, one traitor to the crown.

They were hiding, trying to keep the dragons a secret for as long as they could, for as far as they could. It was not such an easy task, but the dragons were small for now and so they managed. They slept in the cold ground trying to keep warm with the small fire, got up early in the mornings, walked for hours before stopping to rest some and then off they were again. Tired or not, hungry or not, they kept on going. Without the horse, they did not cover much ground, but Jon did not complain about it, not even once. Be it because he understood or because he did not want to bring it up, Dany did not know. Since that night at the Nightfort they haven’t talked much, and there was an edge in the silence between them, as if there was a hole they could fall into at any time if they were not careful enough. She decided not to push it, to keep her thoughts to herself, and Jon did the same.

The white dragon slept peacefully on Jon’s chest, it had taken a great liking of him. The direwolf slept beside them, giving Jon warmth. Every night when Ghost was not out hunting, Dany envied him a little for that. The dragons seemed fond of him, but Ghost was not so warm towards her. On the other hand, maybe that is how he was towards everyone who was not Jon Snow. The thing about Jon and Ghost is that Dany did not knew much about them and that became clearer the longer they stayed together.

Back in Castle Black, she had maintained a safe distance from everyone, the camaraderie she had with the boys was nothing else, only that. Pony Sand had been a quiet and lonely recruit. He did not play and joked around with the other recruits; he trained and did his duty and nothing else. He had his meals quietly, helped Maester Aemon at the library, minded his own and stayed out of all else. Many crude jokes had been told of him, most to his hearing, but he never acknowledged or laughed or complained or anything at all. After a while, Pony became closer to some of the boys, joked lightly with them, went to Mole’s Town with them, but kept to himself most of the time. And Jon had been so difficult in the beginning. She had wanted to, many times. She had wanted to talk to him, to find out and understand if his loneliness was as great as hers was. Solemn face and quiet manner, that was before he became friends with the others. And then she only saw him or talked to him when they were in duty or training together, but even so it seemed a part of him was always back at Winterfell. They were brothers of the Night’s Watch, he had given her sword lessons, she had helped him to save the Lord Commander’s life, and he had kept her secret for as long as he had stayed there. Now, however…

_“We have to stay together, have we not?”_ Jon had asked her once, when they were on watch duty together in a cold morning at the top of the Wall. The sun had been rising in the horizon, the world stretched in front of them… _Of course, we stay together_. The meaning had been much lighter before than what it meant now.

There was nothing to be heard in the early morning, nothing but the water of the nearby stream and the chirping of birds in the trees. Dany opened her satchel and picked some sourleafs to chew. When she got up, the pain and discomfort of the wound in her belly pierced a bit, she walked nonetheless as she had been doing for the past few days. She sat by the stream and filled the canteen with water, washed her face and spat the red juice from her mouth. She felt tired but it was a fatigue of years of hiding and going around the North in circles. When she looked around to the trees and valleys, when she walked hour after hour in silence not knowing exactly where she was… When she could feel the weight of the days she lived before, because it felt familiar looking at where she was now.

It had been a different company then…

Dany wondered about Benjen, about Pyp, the Old Bear. Most of all she missed Maester Aemon, it had been so long since the last time she saw him. She worried about him, wanted to be around the only family she had left. She was on her own now. _There is much to come and you have to be ready for it_. Find the path and walk it. _I am the blood of the dragon_.

When she got back to where they had spent the night, she found Jon awake. He grabbed his canteen and drank the rest of the water, splashing some on his face. He could not leave before Dany came back, that was their agreement to keep the dragons safe, to never leave them alone. The white dragon, _Valarr_, was awake too. It stretched its light wings and neck and blinked the sleep away, looking up at Jon as if wondering why the boy had wake them up. The golden one was _Rhae_, the smaller and most beautiful, and Dany and Jon agreed that something about the dragon was female-like, so they believed it to be a she-dragon. It was named after Daenerys’ mother, Queen Rhaella Targaryen. Golden and delicate scales that shined bright against the light, its spikes and claws were silver as was the membranes of her wings, and eyes a pale blue so crystal it seemed grey. The golden of its scales a startling contrast against the white and soft pale green of her brother.

Jon reached his left hand towards her and a small smile played on his lips when the dragon approached it. Rhae craned her neck around his fingers and breathed smoke out of her nostrils. Watching them, a warm feeling spread through Dany and she smiled despite herself. When she felt eyes on her, she found Ghost’s red ones staring at her, and beside him lay the red dragon, _Aelix_, still asleep. Aelix was the biggest of the three and strongest. Red scales and black spikes and claws, eyes deep and dark. How terrifying would he be when grown for everyone else, but for Dany he was her child as was the other two. Absolutely wonderful and frightening and magical and _hers_. When Aelix stirred, Ghost’s eyes shifted from Dany to him. The dragons seemed incredibly small next to the direwolf and that was somewhat endearing to Dany for one day it would not be the same.

Dany walked the last steps towards them. “Jon,” she called, and he looked up at her, along with all four other pairs of eyes. “You may go if you want.” Every time she said that it only meant that he could excuse himself, but a part of her always expected him to leave. He never did, always coming back to them.

He nodded but didn’t move. Aelix and Valarr approached her foot, and Rhae remained by Jon’s hand. Ghost trotted away. With the rising sun, the comet was becoming a faint light cast upon them.

“We’re close to the Bay and if we keep good pace, we can reach it by the end of the day. By the shore we will find fishermen that can cross us to Skagos, once we’re there we can get on the first galley to Gulltown. Problem is we have no money and three dragons,” Jon looked at Dany, his hand still protective around Rhae. Dany didn’t know if he noticed what he was doing. The more days passed, the more it seemed that Jon was as fond of the dragons as they were of him. And that was how Dany knew that he was truly concerned about their safety.

Dany had spent all her years until then following orders, keeping her head down and lying, to be able to make her own decisions and go wherever she wanted was such a brand-new situation that she found hard to adjust. Jon did not tell her what to do, they were in an agreement to go South and once they reached there, Dany did not know what she would do. Jon knew of his intentions, but Dany did not wish to fight someone else’s war. She could, perhaps she had a moral obligation to avenge Ned Stark’s death or not, but truly it did not matter because by fighting on Robb Stark’s side, she would be telling the whole of Westeros exactly who she was… There would be no hiding three dragons in a battlefield. Moreover, she had no home to return to, to fight for. Was it Dragonstone? King’s Landing? The North? She envied Jon’s purpose, just a bit, even if he struggled with it himself. Perhaps destiny would find her then and give answers to all questions, perhaps destiny would only bring more questions. _War_, the greenseer had said, _many battles ahead, and you will fight men, lies, betrayals and finally, you will face the real enemy_.

“I have an idea that you may not like, I know that I do not. There is no honor in doing something like this, but I believe the both of us are past the caring point for that to be a problem,” Jon started and then went on to tell her of his plan. Dany listened and agreed to it.

And so they walked all day without stopping, silence a lingering companion among them, and by the time the sun was setting they could see the water ahead. The Bay of Seals. The low sun casted an orange glow above the water, clouds moving to cover the traces of a long day. Small houses and cottages were scattered across the shore, the fishing boats in the sand waiting for the tide to rise. Families whose lives depended on how many fish the sea would give them.

Dany felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and closed her eyes, it was Jon’s voice that snapped her out of it, “we should wait until the dead of night as to avoid eyes on us.” She nodded wordlessly. And so they waited, and night fell, there was no one around, waves crashed in the sand with the rising tide, lights brightened the windows until it burned out and the only thing left was the moonlight, the comet with its red light seemed to be finally fading away.

It was such a beautiful night.

Dany’s heart was beating fast inside her chest, and suddenly she was back at the Haunted Forest sneaking away from the sworn brothers, leaving behind her vows and taking all of her fears. Adrenaline and guilt were overwhelming but Jon was right, they both were past the point of caring for that.

_How far are willing to go?_

* * *

“You should see the wonders of the island, m'lady. You can taste and smell salt in the air. And High Tide! ‘s said to have been one of the most beautiful castles in all of the Seven Kingdoms. Silver roofs it had, but that was before it was put to the torch, and…” The tales went on and on and on… It was amazing, truly, how many stories could a man tell to make himself feel important. And so, Aurane Waters gestured around enthusiastically with one hand and held his cup with the other. Drinking and smiling and looking at her with unguarded desire. Night after night.

_Flatterers and fools_, Dany thought. The world seemed to be full of them.

Loud voices and laughter, the crash of thunder against wood, drinks and spit and the reasoning of men way past beyond the point of reason. Few of them cared about the storm outside, coming their way. Few of them wondered how long it would take until the skies were clear enough for the journey to go on. They were stranded somewhere close to the Bay of Crabs but not close enough, with the storm in sight there was no telling how many more days it would take to port in Gulltown.

When Jon and Dany arrived in Skagos, the relief of making it alive got overwhelmed by the realization that the following steps would not be any easier. They had to bargain their way in and out of every situation they happen to found themselves in. Bargains with gold they did not have, possessions they did not own and promises they would not keep. So many questions had no answers… _What now? Where do we go? How can we do this?_ _Are we safe now?_ It was nothing more than the echos of silence that answered, echos those that followed them on every step they took. Finding a galley shipping off to the south had been easy, but convincing its captain of allowing them to work as payment for the journey had not been easy at all. The man was fascinated by Ghost though, and accepted the white direwolf as part of the bargain but only for one of them and so they still had to work to pay for the other one, rowing shifts on every single day that Jon had insisted on being the one to do it. Even when Dany insisted that she was more than capable of rowing, to which Jon had replied with “it is not about that” and nothing else. Dany had wondered then if he was closing himself and punishing himself for breaking his vows, she dared not ask and strangely enough she felt as if she knew what his answer would be.

“Maybe she could pay some other way, men get lonely at the sea you must know,” the captain had said, looking at Dany with a sickening yellow smile.

Before she could say anything, Jon had stepped forward.

“One of your men lay a finger on her and they will find themselves waking up in the water with salt in their lungs,” he said. “And I will not have blood on my sword, but she will have on hers.”

The men never touched her, and so the journey went… They had a little cabin of their own where they could hide the dragons and sleep, they got their food with the rest of the crew, and that was enough. And a fortnight later, it was still enough. And if the captain knew or not that he would not receive the most important part of their bargain in the end, Dany did not care. They had enough to worry as it was and the rage of one unimportant captain did not matter at all.

“…some believe so, but that’s ‘cause folks believe just about any shit these days! But I tell you, if dragons were flying about the North, whores would be cheaper in the South!-” the skinny dirty man close by laughed and spilled his drink on the table. Aurane made a slight sound of disgust as if he thought no one but himself could handle his cup.

Dany ignored them all, her attention was now on a fight breaking on the other side of the room. Her stomach sank, it was Jon.

_Fools_… The world seemed to be full of them.

**JON**

His brother Robb sat solemnly on his horse, long red hair stirring in the wind. Over his head flapped the banner of House Stark of Winterfell. His blue eyes, so much like Lady Catelyn’s, were now cold and devoid of any brotherly affection. The boy he remembered from Winterfell was gone and in his place was the Lord of Winterfell, asking questions with a grim look on his face. Was it disappointment? Sorrow? Would he regret it? Finally, his brother gave a command, and two of his guardsmen dragged Jon to the ironwood stump. They forced his head down onto the hard black wood. Jon recalled that same ironwood from all the times he had seen a beheading, in that same square, that same hill, in many clear and cold mornings.

Lord Robb Stark dismounted, and his ward gave him the greatsword. He took hold of _Ice_ with both hands and said, “_…by the word of Robb of House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I do sentence you to die_.”

He would not beg, what was done was done. He lowered his head and waited for it. It was strange, how he could hear the swing of the greatsword cutting through air. He did not feel the cut. There was no sound at all, only the cold. Death was quiet.

Jon opened his eyes.

The water was dark and endless. Any direction he looked there was nothing to be seen. In the sky, the moon shined bright and casted its light upon the night, somewhat red as if it missed the company of the comet that was now gone. Where it touched the water, it looked like blood. Blood and darkness, all around. The night air was cold on his face, the cut on his lower lip stung when the wind hit it. He could hear the faint sound of music, laughter and drunk men arguing.

Nothing could keep the dream out of his mind.

Often in his dreams now, there was war and fire and ice, wolves and dragons, blood and his lord father’s head rolling in the ground just as the heads of the deserters he remembered… Now, however, he was the deserter. His head rolling in the ground. In another dream, his father had sentenced him to die. His father was dead though, so it was Robb then with Ice in his hands. Sometimes Bran, who was now Lord of Winterfell in their brother’s absence. It was difficult to imagine how Bran and Rickon were handling it, and Jon wanted nothing more than to pay them a visit, but he could not go home for Robb needed him in the South. His sisters needed him… He could not think of Arya, would not… When he did not dream of his family, it was the Lord Commander and his broken trust, _Longclaw_ left forgotten on the ground, his brothers’ judgment. Sam begging him to stay… That had not been a dream though, Sam had asked Jon to stay countless times, told him that his place was there, that he should not go but Sam did not understand, only Maester Aemon did. _You must make that choice yourself and live with it all the rest of your days_. And that was what Jon was doing, albeit harder in some days than others.

When awake, shame, regret and guilt haunted his thoughts.

And after years of wanting to wander around the world, to go beyond Westeros and Essos and to travel as far as the edge could be, he did not expect to miss the cold winds of the Wall, but he did so very much. Everything around was foreign to him, not only the people. The daily life on the galley, the routine of the crew, the rough barked commands of the captain, the smell of piss and shit and sweat that clouded the air, the rowing shifts. The nights shared with Daenerys on their small crowded cabin… The dragons’ growing impatience, the attention the girl brought to herself whenever she walked on the deck outside. Jon did not worry for her safety, for he knew she could hold her own and protect herself, but something on the way the men looked at her made Jon wonder how long they could go unnoticed before people started to pay too much attention and ask questions they wanted to avoid. It was inevitable, he knew, just as the dragons would become impossible to hide one day.

Jon was amazed at how much he cared for the dragons though. Some days, the dragons were the one thing that gave Jon a sense of purpose. When he looked at the creatures, amazed by their wonder and magic, he understood that they should be protected. When he felt lost and dirty over his broken vows, when honor was a weight too great to carry and the fear of what his brother would do started to suffocate him, he would stay close to the dragons and then the day they were born would come to his thoughts, the memory had been branded on his mind. _Ice and fire and blood_. Daenerys unharmed, her eyes staring at him, his outstretched hand that was a gesture of acceptance…

A door opened and closed, and a few light steps told Jon that he was not alone in the deck anymore. He did not want to talk to anyone nor see anyone. He should have gone to their cabin and stayed in solitude with Ghost because while often the direwolf judged him, at least he did so in silence. He was tired and hurting and not in the mood, but of course it was Daenerys.

“If you choose to keep this attitude you will soon be thrown overboard,” Daenerys said as she approached him.

He closed his eyes, he could not look at her and see judgment, or worse, pity. “Have you heard what they were saying about my lord father? The things they say are not true! Am I supposed to keep my head down and do nothing but listen?! Is that what it is expected of me?!” Anger flowed on his veins, hotter and thicker than blood. So dark he could feel it. So harmful, and it blinded him. Jon shuddered a breath out and opened his eyes. Turning around, he found Daenerys looking closely at him but there was no judgment or pity on her eyes, only sadness and _understanding_.

The understanding always caught him off guard. He could not get used to it, no matter how many times he had encountered it. And that happened more often than not.

“Yes,” was all she said, and a bitter humorless laugh died before reaching his lips.

Jon turned his back on her, but she did not leave, as he knew she would not.

“Do you think it was easy for me all these years to listen in silence to everything said about my family? To pretend it did not affect me at all? That it was about strangers instead of my kin and blood? It was not easy, Jon. It shouldn’t be and I understand how hard it can be, because I remember the things said about my father…”

“Do not compare my father to yours! Do not dare!” Without realizing Jon was up against her face, close enough to be intimidating.

And for a heartbeat they were back at the training yard at Castle Black. The ringing of the clash of steel on their ears, their breathing matching, their footwork so similar for being reminiscent of the same teaching, the snickering of the other recruits around. Jon pressing as hard as he could and Pony not yielding. He remembered her getting up again and again, not giving up. Not giving Ser Alliser the satisfaction he wanted for being proven right, and Jon respected that, for he too did not back down. Neither of them was prone to yield, not once, no matter the opponent.

There was so much fight in them.

Daenerys did not flinch, did not move an inch. A part of him hoped that she would, most of the time he desperately wanted to be alone. Jon thought it would be best if he was and sometimes he was right on that, he knew so. But he would not yield.

“Your father burned my grandfather and uncle alive! He was mad and cruel, and deserved what he got,” Jon said, the words a strike he knew would hurt.

“We should not speak of such things,” she whispered after a couple of seconds that lasted for too long, voice softer than he deserved, a worried look around the deck.

He would come to realize later that it was his aggressiveness not words that made her take a step back, away from him. Daenerys searched his eyes and whatever she saw there made her finally walk away, leaving Jon on the deck alone with everything that haunted him. Regret would come later as well. In that moment though, he did not care. Not nearly as much as a part of him knew he should.

Thunder crashed against the hull, drops of rain fell heavily from the night sky and the storm finally arrived… It was not as cold as he was used to, but Jon felt numb.

He closed his eyes and let the rain fall over him.

And when he knocked on their cabin door later that night there was no answer, but he knew she was inside. For a moment he was back at Castle Black, knocking on her door after saving her from the fire, waiting for her to tell him the truth. _Who else know of this?_ He had asked, but she had given him no answer.

One more knock, now. No answer.

* * *

He was in the rookery back at Castle Black, feeding the ravens. A bucket of chopped meat with too much blood in his hands, a storm raging inside of his head, his heart in anguish and Jon did not want to listen to a word the Maester had to say and yet he stayed and listened. “Jon, did you ever wonder why the men of the Night's Watch take no wives and father no children?” Maester Aemon had asked.

_Zaldrīzes_… Said a voice he knew but it was not familiar, and it seemed to come from too far a distance…

_For love is the bane of honor, the death of duty_…

The old man seemed to sense his doubts. “Tell me Jon, if the day should ever come when your lord father must needs choose between honor on the one hand and those he loves on the other, what would he do?”

Jon had hesitated, why was the answer so difficult to find? He said, “He would do whatever was right. No matter what.” That was what he wanted to believe, and the truth and what he believed in could be such distinguished things.

When Maester Aemon looked right at him then with those dead white eyes it was as if he could see into his heart.

_Dracarys_… Someone said, to him or to someone else, or to some_thing_ else. He could feel the warmth on his skin, but it did not burn.

_It hurts, boy_…

Jon opened his eyes slowly and felt the sun light warm on his face. The dream, or memory, vivid on his mind. _It has always hurt and always will_… He sat up and looked at the sunlight coming through the slits in the wood. The skies were finally clear. Ghost was laying down by his foot, looking at the dragons in the middle of what space they had left, there were pieces of meat scattered in the floor. Daenerys was sitting cross legged on the floor, looking at her dragons, saying words in a soft High Valyrian that Jon did not understand but had heard so much of in the past weeks that he recognized.

“Dracarys,” said Daenerys, looking intently at Valarr who seemed wholly uninterested in the task at hand.

Ghost looked up at Jon, then looked back at Valarr who now had abandoned his piece of meat and was picking at a scrap of wood on the floor. Daenerys sighed and picked Rhae in her hands, caressing the dragon’s golden scales in contentment. The silence was peaceful, and Jon feared breaking it, so he stayed there, looking at the girl and her dragons for a moment more. Her silver hair was growing fast and now covered all her head, standing up in all directions like a boy’s. Her eyes had lost all trace of its blue and were now a clear violet. Pale skin and slender frame… It was a wonder how she had managed to hide for so long under the eyes of men hungry for exactly what she looked like, a princess. But she was so much more. She was lethal and determined, Jon knew so and beyond that every day he was struck by her beauty in a ridiculous way. She should not have been so beautiful. He never expected that to be something he would have to look out for in the first place and yet, and yet there he was. How could he have known? He was not prepared for that. When he thought of Pony Sand and the scrawny boy she had been, it baffled him. And at that moment looking at her, he could feel the weight of the words he had said to her that night not too long ago. He had tried to apologize many times before, but words always failed him.

He did not know what to make of what he felt anymore. Tired of feeling lost and guilty and angry. More than anything he wanted an end but understood it was only the beginning.

Aelix was growing impatient with his meat, he looked up at Daenerys as if expecting her to burn it for him but she did not oblige. She arched a brow to him in a dare and said in a command, “dracarys.”

Jon and Daenerys both observed what the little dragon would do, and Jon realized how high his expectations were when fire burst out of Aelix's mouth in small spurs, smoke filling the air around him, the fire so hot and powerful that burned the meat very fast.

Daenerys’ delight filled the small cabin.

Ghost put as much distance as he could between himself and the burning meat. And Jon smiled brightly when he looked at the dragon devouring his meal, his eyes finding Daenerys’ a second after. She laughed wholeheartedly, and it was the very first time he heard her laugh like that. For a split-second Jon thought he could hear music, but he shut out the thought for he was sure it was only the singer playing his flute on the deck outside.

* * *

**DAENERYS**

Standing at the prow, Dany looked at the horizon ahead. She could see the coast, stretching as far as the eye could see. After so long at the sea, she wondered what would be like to have her feet on land again. And more than that, she wondered what the lands in the South would look like. She had never been south since she was taken to the North.

“Do you miss it? Your home?” she had asked Septa Coni once, many years before.

The woman had smiled sadly and answered, “I never had one, princess.” A wave of sadness washed over Dany then, because she too, never had one. All she could remember was the cold winds of the North. “I dream of it, for you though not me. I am old and lived and longed enough for things I cannot have but you, my sweetling, you can have it. I believe it. You are Daenerys Stormborn.”

_I long for things I cannot have as well_, Dany thought. She was so close to home and yet so far away. Dragonstone was not hers, but it belonged to her did it not?

Day after day, Dany could not shake the feeling of purpose and righteousness whenever she thought about the things that could be, _should_ be hers. For all that Jon struggled with his intentions, at least he had them clear. As for Dany, she was now in the South and what of it? What would she do? Where would she go? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to believe there was a reason for all things. The greenseer had told her she should embrace her words, win wars, fulfil her destiny. She wanted a home, she wanted Dragonstone, she wanted justice for her family, for Lord Eddard Stark. _The ruin of my house, the death of my kin_… Maester Aemon’s words were an echo in her thoughts.

_We_ _are the blood of the dragon_.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the salt air of the sea. When she heard steps, she turned around to find Jon walking slowly to her, his walk measured with his regret. _The past, my child, is a prison_. He looked down and up at her again, there was a sadness in his gray eyes that called for her own. Before he could say anything, she turned back to the sea and said nothing until he was standing by her side.

“We need each other, Jon.” _We have to stay together, have we not?_

Whatever Jon was going to say, he changed his mind. “I know,” he said instead.

“We’ll find your brother, you will fight by his side, you will help your sisters and all of you will go home,” she said, in the hopes that saying it would make it so.

“What will you do?” Jon asked, voice curious and tired.

“Do you remember Maester Aemon’s library?” She asked with a fond small in her voice. “I have spent so much time there, helping him, fetching books and reading. Talking and listening. I listened the most… He told me many stories, as I am sure he told stories to everyone who was willing to listen. And so many books… I’ve read about it and he told me about it, of dragons and heroes.”

“There are no heroes anymore,” Jon said.

Dany smiled sadly, “yes, there are no more heroes. But there are dragons.” She looked at Jon then, and the sun rising on the horizon brightened his face. They were such a long way from that day on the top of the Wall. “I will not be dust in history books.”

“What then?” Jon asked, understanding crossed his eyes.

_Fire and blood_, those were her words. That was her legacy. It would lead her home. “I will conquer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated for those that did not give up on it, even though I did for a while. Thank you. I hope you still enjoy.
> 
> [Bay of Seals](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Bay_of_Seals)  
[Skagos](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Skagos)  
[Valarr Targaryen](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Valarr_Targaryen)  
[Rhae Targaryen](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Rhae_Targaryen)  
[Bay of Crabs](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Bay_of_Crabs)  
[Gulltown](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Gulltown)  
[galleys](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Ships)  
[Aurane Waters](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Aurane_Waters)  
[High Tide](https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/High_Tide)  
_Zaldrīzes:_ dragon in High Valyrian


End file.
